


In the Direction of the East Wind

by Motion_of_the_ocean



Category: johnlock - Fandom
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Romance, Sherlock (TV) Season/Series 04 Fix-it, finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 03:07:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9638324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Motion_of_the_ocean/pseuds/Motion_of_the_ocean
Summary: This story starts in the series finale episode. We see Sherlock in the midst of helping his sister recover by playing the violin. Over time her playing helps her open up more, and everyone bares witness to it. It is during this time that Sherlock finally opens up to John about how he feels, and the timing seems to occur naturally.





	

Sherlock knew Mycroft was more predisposed to killing their sister than he was. Although he had given her small treats every Christmas, that hardly meant that he cared enough to risk all their lives. But now that Sherlock met her, understood her; the reasons why she had hatched this six year demonic plan to have the brothers kill each other, he was determined to be her brother.  
'You've spent all this time up in the air, like the plane with the little girl inside; going round in circles, never reaching the ground, till you've run out of fuel and expect to crash'.  
She looks at him wide-eyed, somewhat frantic, but soothed by his reassurance that she could land her plane.  
He gently eases closer to her on the beat-up old bed, aware that she could kill him, but confident she wouldn't try anything. He reaches out to her and she moves slightly so that they can hug. He may have lost redbeard- his little brother Victor- to her when they were young, but he wouldn't lose her. 

The day that Sherlock began to visit her, and communicate to her through the violin, it became somewhat of a ritual; unaware that it began to help her like therapy sessions, which occurred twice weekly. Where they would meet and play. People could say that he was naive to put so much care into a woman of her psychosis. But what was truly naive was to abandon love, and think that it did not conquer all. she was proof that it was working, progress took time. But even John could see that soon, she would open up and cease this period of verbal celibacy. they had only been playing together for a month, but she seemed to slowly come into herself. Now when they played, her face seemed gentled, like she could almost smile from the enjoyment of this experience. John watched on every now and then, but her parents and Mycroft showed up for almost every session. It was admirable- none of them had given up on her. She was only young when she killed their son after all, she about seven, Victor, five. It was difficult to rebuild a peaceful sense of self, when you never had one.  
One of the days where Eurus had actually smiled, it surprised John, who was bouncing Rosie in his arms to the cheerful tunes playing. It was a genuine smile, no menacing eyes that dared you to come inside her mind- become her mind. She wasn't an ear-worm anymore; she'd much rather chew the fat through song, than chew your brain. After an hour and a half they left, and Eurus returned to not doing much at all with her still barren room. Back at their flat, John remarked:  
'It's really working. Ha-ha, all she needed was a little bit of attention, real attention. '  
'So you saw the smile. Ha-ha, I expected as much from all that time'.  
John smiled cheerily:  
'It'll get better pretty soon probably. Can you watch Rosie, I need to pee'. He said as he got up and swiveled out from behind the high chair.  
Sherlock nodded silently with a pursed smile. He decided to give Rosie some of her food, just a spoonful, and then John came back out of the toilet.  
'You can keep feeding her if you want'. He said casually as Sherlock saw him.  
'Ok'. He smiled happily at Rosie, then he made her eat a big glob of baby food.  
'Ha-ha'. John laughed. Then he went to make himself some tea. He sat down in his chair, and then after a few moments, Sherlock took Rosie out of the high chair when she was done.  
He sat opposite John and bounced Rosie on his knee for a bit, she looked so cute. He started to sing a little bit of a Scottish nursery rhyme while she bobbed up and down:  
'And he played upon a ladle, a ladle, a ladle. Yes he played upon a ladle, and his name was Aiken Drum'.  
'Ha-ha, a ladle?' John laughed sarcastically.  
John had turned on the telly when he was almost done with his tea, and Sherlock continued to hold Rosie as he wished. There was a documentary on about some wetlands that they decided to keep on, relaxing as it was. soon when Rosie had fallen asleep, Sherlock opted to take her to her crib, and John followed to say his "goodnights". He handed her over to john, and their fingers brushed against each other. They ignored the slight contact, and made up for it by focusing on the job at hand. John kissed into Rosie's cheek; the same spot, three times over. Babies cheeks are meant for kissing. He chuckled and gently placed her in the crib and laid a blanket over her.  
He felt Sherlock's hand come up his bicep and rest on his shoulder as he stood straight. John, wide-eyed from the suggestive intimacy of the touch, looked at him.  
'John...' He said as he took John's right hand with his own. His thumb massaging his knuckles affectionately as he said:  
'Can I just say, we've been good friends...'  
John's heart throbs.  
'But I care for you a lot'. He says all this while searching John's face and body-language worriedly. He's prepared for them to continue being friends, but really, he knows that more would make him feel so wonderful. He lets go of John's hand after those few seconds to allow for his response.  
'Sherlock...I, didn't expect that, sorry'. He says in his caught off-guard voice. Sherlock feels compelled to lean in.  
John doesn't have time to stop it before it's already happening. Maybe if Sherlock expressed himself fully it would be so clear to John. John is as still as a statue, but then breaks away from the quick kiss, wanting to start again. This time he lets desire creep into his eyes as he looks at Sherlock. And he holds onto both of his shoulders as he leans in to give Sherlock a real kiss. His hands glide up and rest against the sides of his neck. Sherlock has his hands lightly on John's waist , but then his hold becomes more firm and deliberate as their kiss deepens. He starts rubbing up and down John's back slightly before they stop. John leans into him and hugs him, a warm embrace.  
'I did want this'. John says resolutely as they're leaning away from each other. Sherlock smiles at him and caresses his hair.  
And then they returned to watch the rest of the documentary, buzzing inside, and feeling a little awkward. But the familiarity is there, they are comfortable with each other.


End file.
